It is a true testament to the maturity and decorum of the VDF that nobody has made a blue pill joke in this thread.

Not gear related, but funny nonetheless. Bizarre as it unfolded, doing a Beatles tribute gig and on the count of four-all four of us start playing 4 entirely different songs! We all looked at each other in a panic like four derp-nerps and eventually got on with the right song. It was only after we looked at our video (which we always shot for critques) did we learn of our goof. Oh yeah, very professional. My advice, never alter your set list! Dean

It is that very thought that prompted me to specify their MUSIC-related disaster!

Oh that is awful, because there are only about 6 snare hits in the entire arrangement until the lead vocal starts going on about what an amazing cat John Shaft is, it's this amazing slow long simmer and then boil over, and they followed it with a popped cork.

After playing bass and guitar in post-punk, grunge, and indie rock bands in my 20's and 30's, I only started playing drums in my early '50's, and haven't played out much. Just jams, parties, recording my own songs. So not many chances to look a fool yet.

But there was this one friend's birthday party with many bands, and a backlined kit, the people playing ranged in age from 20's up to 50's, newcomers to die hards. Toward the end, a pair of sweet fresh faced lads got up with their fashionably shabby guitar and bass and started doing vocal duets in the style of early Merseybeat and Everly Bros., think of The British Invasion and the Americans who influenced them. The kind of latin-tinged Ringo thing, etc. And I'm looking at that drum kit behind them and my arms are aching, I'm leaning against a tree off to one side playing air drums hearing the perfect arrangements to every cover and original these guys are doing, we could have been bulldozing the place as a trio.

Inevitably, I can't stand it anymore and in between songs I offer and wind up on the throne for a tacked-on encore.

Which winds up being something in an entirely different tempo and style than they had been doing previously.

So much so that I see the sight that no "sitting in" drummer ever wants to see: one of the very nice lads turns around during the song and mimes to me the kind of beat he thinks I should be playing.

It's kind of an indie pop version of that Bill Cosby routine about the jazz jam that goes around here sometimes, except there was no Max Roach to rescue me.

Sigh. Oh that was a very long song.

"Thank you, that was our interpretation of "Revolution #9!"

Leedybdp at the same time there was another group called The Critters from New Jersey I believe. They had the song Mr. Diengly Sad. Did they ever get you guys mixed up ? I actually played for a while here in south east Florida with Don Ciccone who wrote that song in a revised version of The Critters.

For a very brief time, a few bookers asked if we were them. However, in our home turf--Chicago and a few surrounding states to Illinois--we were pretty well known before the other group had a hit record. It was never suggested to us that we change our name. Maybe, if we had put out some records, we would have changed our name.

They faded quickly while our Kritters band went on for several years.

I started playing professional gigs when I was 15. Once, right after I got my brand-new 1975 Rogers Big R Memriloc kit, I was asked to play for a country "act" with some local guy who was semi-famous in the area. The gig was fine until he called "Spanish Eyes" which had a rhythm that I had never played before. Needless to say, I messed it all up into a complete train wreck, embarrassed the guy so bad that he canned me on the break. But, as fate would have it they still needed a drummer to finish out the week and the only guy who was available was the rhythm guitarist who also played a little on the drums. So, even though I had been fired, they wanted to rent the drums. I agreed to their terms and when I got the drums back at the end of the week, the floor tom had a cigarette burn in the head. I was crushed. These were all grown men and I was a mere boy. School of hard knocks and all. When I finally got over the whole thing, I began to practice all Latin rhythms and eventually ended up in a duo with a guitarist from Rio de Janeiro (where basically every citizen is a great drummer)! Meanwhile, the guy who fired me, faded into alcoholism and obscurity and I heard he finally died a few years ago. I always planned on recording a really hip version of Spanish Eyes and sending it to him....but oh well.

I was playing in a country rock band 20-odd years ago. One night we had a very light gig for an elderly singles dance in a very hot American Legion hall with no AC. Dave, our bass player sees a sweet little old lady who was a friend of his late mom's. Half way into the set, we play a very slow pretty ballad in 8/8 that Dave sang lead. Dave had a wireless mic and got down off the stage, knelt down beside the lady and sang the song to her. A very sweet moment. A very sweet moment completely ruined when my stick slipped through my sweaty fingers, and bounced off three cymbals and a couple toms before rolling (loudly) all the way across the stage and falling off and onto the floor.

We played a summer festival at a nearby city yesterday. The city employed a “professional” sound company. Since I sing occasionally (not particularly well), they set me up with a mic. I typically use a boom mic stand to my left. They had a boom stand with some barbell weights on the base for stability and a 12” gooseneck. I tend to not sing very loudly, so to compensate, I place my mouth very close to the mic, sometimes tapping it. As I start to sing the lead of “Hang on Sloopy,” I must have tapped the mic with my mouth. The boom swung away from me as the gooseneck drooped. I had to stop and try and make adjustments. We restarted the tune, but the same thing happened. I decide to make due and just try and chase the flippin’ mic around as I continue playing the drums. I was so flustered, I forgot the lyrics to the second half of the first verse! Not my most shining moment as a musician!

Also, throughout the gig, I saw my tom rising up on the mounting tab, ready to make another jail break. From now on, that little sucker will be mounted on a stand!